Gold medal stomach floor exercise. Or something witty like that.

Opening night. Sethie-boy is sick. Fever, runny nose.

Did I mention my show opens tonight? I"m gonna go puke. I've never been so scared in my entire life. Beyond scared. I'm excited, because the show rocked last night. But I'm scared. Because. I am. And my stomach has been doing Olympian gymnastics for about a week now.

Can we take a moment and appreciate the fact that I've often considered my stomach to be made of iron. I've drank large quantities of alcohol and *should* have vomited, only to be rebuffed and suffered through two days of incessant queasiness. Apparently, the easiest way to practice for full on bullemia is to direct a three-act drama.

I called out of work today to take care of my Seth. If I were my boss I would think I called out because of the show but actually I didn't. I would rather have sat in a quiet office today thinking about anything that doesn't begin with Opening and ending with Night.




Powered by ScribeFire.

Comments

Popular Posts